The New Recruit
by Just Leah
Summary: James Campbell: brilliant alchemist, devoted brother, loyal friend and a complete nervous wreck. He enters the military in an attempt to honor his late brother's memory. In the process he will learn many things; things that will change his life forever.
1. Nerves

**A/N: Hi guys! Yes, it is Leah, back again! I decided to try my hand at writing a fic with an OC in it, so this is the story of James Campbell. I hope you guys like it! I am excited to write this. Please read and review! Even if your review is short, I promise to reply to every review I get! Because your opinions matter to me. Thanks! :D  
Disclaimer: It hasn't changed. I still don't own FMA. But now I do own an OC! YES!**

"James, I'm disappointed in you."

My father's words rang in my ears as I walked down the street towards headquarters. I didn't think I would ever get his face out of my mind. He had seemed so . . . betrayed. I hung my head in shame as I walked. It had been such an awful morning, but all of it was necessary.

I had gotten up and pretended as best I could that today was the same as any other. But I couldn't fool my parents. I kind of regretted my decision to not rent my own place when I saw the look in my mother's eyes. She had remembered that today was the day. But, she gave me a hug all the same as I had walked out the door. She even wished me luck. It would have been better if she had sided with my dad and accused me of going against the family. But I had to do this. It felt like my duty.

I walked into the main part of headquarters and was met by a stern secretary. She led me to a chair and told me to sit until it was time. I was all nerves, checking to make sure I had everything: my paperwork, my chalk, and my shoes. Shoes are very important. Everything was there, so I focused on calming myself. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to relax.

Then I heard a familiar voice, "Jim? Is that you?"

I opened my eyes and saw the face that went with the voice. "Jean!" I stood up to greet my old friend. "I didn't know you were in the military!"

"Yup," he smirked, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth like it always did. "I've been here a few years now. What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but my nerves overcame me. I just wanted to get this over with!

"Oh, wait!" he smacked his forehead. "You are the reason why I'm here! I was told to come get you for your alchemy examination. I forgot you were into that."

I nodded and he signaled for me to follow him. I walked next to him in silence. The moment had come, and I was scared out of my mind.

"Here you go," Jean smirked at me as he opened the door. "Good luck, Jim."

"You aren't coming in?" I finally found my voice.

"I can't. Only The Fuhrer and a few select State Alchemists are allowed in the examinations. Sometimes things don't go according to plan, so they need people who can clean up and not be in the way." After seeing the look on my face he quickly added, "But, I'm sure you'll do fine!"

"Thanks, Jean," I said, my sarcasm a bit marred by my fear.

"James Campbell," a voice called when I entered the room. It sounded friendly, but official at the same time. I immediately looked for the source of the voice and met the gaze of an older man who looked like he had seen his share of battles. His hair was black and slicked back and he wore an eye patch over his left eye. A few others were standing close to him protectively, so I assumed this was Fuhrer Bradley, even though I had never seen the man in my life.

"Uh. . . ." I hesitated. "Yes! I am James."

"Well, it's nice to meet you James." Bradley smiled kindly. "I am glad you came to take this examination. We have had a decreasing number of participants lately."

"Um, thank you, sir?" My fright turned the sentence into a question.

He smiled again, "Well, get to it then," he ordered a soldier who was standing next to me. "I will observe."

"Do you have chalk?" the man asked me.

"Oh!" I fumbled for my chalk and pulled it out, displaying it. "Yes."

"Let's get started then."

And my alchemy exam began.

"We will begin with simple transmutations," the soldier to my left announced. Another man brought a pitcher of water to me. "Transmute this water into ice," I was ordered.

I grabbed the water with shaking hands and carefully set it on the ground, afraid of spilling any. I drew a circle around and pressed my fingers to the chalk lines. The pitcher glowed for a second, and when the light subsided it had frozen completely.

"Good work," the soldier said, though his face showed no kindness. "Now make a sculpture out of it.

I smiled slightly, focusing on my transmuting once more. This time when the light faded it revealed a dazzling statue of a bird, its wings spread in flight. I gazed at my creation; happy it had gone exactly as I had hoped. Suddenly, it started tipping towards me. I scrambled back, realizing it was about to fall on me. It crashed to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. To my great shame, a let out a small yelp as it broke. It was then that I realized that Bradley had pushed it over with his foot, and he was now glaring at me. Had I done something wrong?

"Well, you aren't an amateur, that is obvious." His eyes were boring into me as he spoke; his face had lost all of its friendliness from before. "But I can see you are hesitant and unsure. These are not qualities we seek when selecting State Alchemists. Remember you will be called upon to fight in the front lines. What skill do you have that makes you feel you are ready for war?"

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to think of a response.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When I stepped out of the room, Jean was waiting for me.

"Hey, Jim!" His face brightened when he saw me. "How did it go?"

I couldn't speak. My hands were shaking as my nerves got the best of me.

"You don't look so good," he looked closely at my face. "Let me buy you a drink."

Once we had arrived at the small bar and I had taken a seat, I was able to talk again.

"How did it go?" he asked again, right after our drinks were given to us.

"I got shot. Twice."

"What?" Jean spat out his drink in alarm. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I showed him the two holes in the sleeve of my shirt.

"How are you not even bleeding?" He grabbed my arm and examined it with concern and shock.

"Well, I developed this," I pulled out a piece of what looked like hard plastic. "It is a bulletproof piece of armor," I answered his perplexed expression. "Extremely light-weight and very effective. I found a way to arrange the molecules in the plastic so that it is extremely strong, yet still flexible. I demonstrated how it works today. I told them I could create a full body suit if they needed it."

He gave me an awed look. "You showed them that? You're in for sure!"

"I don't now," I set the plastic down. "Bradley said a few things that have me worried, about my nervousness and how I always hesitate. They probably won't take someone like me."

"I'll bet you did fine," he punched my shoulder. "You always were pretty good at alchemy."

"But I always fail when it comes to having guts. I fall apart at the mere mention of pressure. I started freaking out when it started."

"Yeah, you should probably work on that," he admitted.

"Hey!" I said, slightly offended.

"Well, you're trying to be in the military! You need a backbone!"

"I know," I sighed. "I try."

"Why are you joining up anyway? Military life doesn't seem like it would suit you."

"I didn't do this for me," I told him. "It's for Scott."

"Oh." He looked down at his drink. He had known my brother almost as well as I had, and he missed him just as much.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just feel like if I join the military I could help preserve his memory or something. I think it is the right thing to do for him. But this morning I had my doubts."

"What happened?"

"My dad called me a traitor. He said I was betraying the entire family by trying to follow in Scott's footsteps. I only wanted to make him proud. But I guess that won't be happening any time soon." I took a big gulp, but I knew it wouldn't help me feel any better.

"It will all work out," Jean assured me as the door to the bar opened.

"Campbell!" I heard a rough voice call my name. I turned to see three men clad in Amestrian uniforms staring at me. "Your results are in," the foremost continued. "You are to report to headquarters immediately."

"This soon?" Jean seemed shocked.

I turned to him, "Is that bad?"

"I have no idea." He looked baffled. "I'm no expert in the exam process, but this seems really early."

"Well, I'll have to just find out." I said, but in my mind I had already failed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

We were back at HQ in no time, back to the nerve-wracking plain walls and long hallways.

The secretary glared at me in a way that said, "Not you again," as she pointed me down a hallway. "Go to Mustang's office."

Jean was following behind me and I heard him greet the secretary kindly. How did he get along with her so well? She seemed so irritable.

"So the Major is still here, too," I commented, trying to stifle my nerves again, this time with casual conversation.

"Which Major?" Jean asked.

"Major Mustang. He was here when Scott enlisted."

"Oh, yeah. He's still here. But he moved up to Colonel."

"Wow. He is climbing the ranks quickly."

"Sure is. I'm under his jurisdiction, come to think of it."

"You forgot?" I gave him an incredulous look.

"Eh, we don't really do much unless Hawkeye is around. It is easy to forget things while she is on vacation."

"Hawkeye?" The name was unfamiliar to me. Then again, I had only associated with the military while Scott was a part of it.

"You'll meet her. Ah, here it is." Havoc opened another door for me.

"Major Campbell," the man in the office called.

"Yes?" I replied instinctively to my name as I stepped inside the room. This time, Jean followed. Then I realized exactly what the man had said. "Wait, 'Major?' I'm in?"

"Indeed you are." Mustang hadn't changed much since Ishval. I remembered seeing the same black hair, same cold eyes, and same cynical expression at Scott's funeral. "Congratulations. You will now be known as the Guardian Alchemist. Strange name, if you ask me, but I don't come up with these. Welcome to the military."

"Thank you, sir," I said as I took the official looking paper he held out to me.

"This is a pretty big achievement for someone who is only twenty-two years old, so you should be proud." he continued. "You are under my jurisdiction, though. So report back here tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred hours."

"Yes, sir!" I saluted for the first time, my nerves gone for the first time all day.

Jean and I left the room without another word.

"Guardian?" he asked me after we had walked for a few feet. "Where did that come from?"

"It is because of my defensive transmutations," I said. "At least, I assume that is where it came from."

"Wow, I've never heard of anything like that before."

"Yeah," I laughed worriedly.

"Well, we are in the same team at least!" he smacked my back.

"Yeah! This may be better than I thought, Jean."

"It will be great. But remember to call people by last names. It is how we are identified in the military."

"Okay, Havoc," I tried it out. It sounded weird to me.

"Good work, Campbell!" he laughed at my expression. Then his face became more serious as a thought crossed his mind. "What will your parents think?"

My heart, which had been soaring a moment ago, was dragged back down to Earth in a brutal fashion.

"I guess I have to tell them."

"I guess you do."

And that is when the nerves decided to kick in again.

**Weeeell, what did you think? Please review! I will update soon! See you next chapter!**


	2. Unexpected

**A/N: Chapter two! Wewt! Thank you for reading, but you guys really do need to review more! I only got one review (THANK YOU SO MUCH PUMPKIN2FACE!) and so now I don't know what you guys think of this! PLEASE give me your comments, even if it is only a few words! It will actually help me write the story and make it better. Thanks guys! Enjoy chapter two!  
Disclaimer: I only own James, Scott and their parents. FMA isn't mine.**

I tried to walk home a slowly as I could. I had been so excited that I had been accepted so soon, but I had no idea what to tell my parents. I had become a Dog of the Military, fulfilling my father's worst nightmare. I wanted to crawl under a rock, but at the same time I felt like jumping for joy. I had done it! I had become a part of the very military that Scott lost his life in. I could honor his memory by serving my country the way he had wished he could.

I let myself think about Scott for a moment, as I did many times every day. He was so zealous about protecting our country. It had been his dream to join the military ever since we were kids. I remember him telling me that when he was only nine, and that was almost sixteen years ago. I remember idolizing him, wanting to be exactly like my older brother. He had always done so well at everything he tried. It always made me sad to think that his life had been cut short by that one grenade. But even in death, he had done so well, accomplished so much.

No. I couldn't think about Scott right now. I had to get back to the matter at hand.

I looked at the cobblestone street under my feet, trying to come up with something to say.

"Mother, Father," I started practicing out loud. "I have been accepted into the military. . . . No, that won't do."

I cleared my throat and tried again. "I got my state certification!" I held up my new silver watch, and then let my arm fall, annoyed with myself.

"I am awful at this," I sighed. I stuck my watch back in my pocket, even though it felt bulky and out of place. I watched the cobblestones pass under my feet. My nervousness had changed from the shaking stage to the numb stage. I couldn't feel my legs, even though I could clearly see them moving. I sighed again. I was a total mess.

Suddenly, I heard a commotion up ahead. I looked up to see an ambulance on the side of the street.

"That can't be good," I said aloud. It must have been the nerves that made me talk to myself. Then I realized the ambulance was parked in front of a familiar house. _My _house. Without realizing it, I had started running towards the scene.

When I made it to the house I found my mother standing in back of the ambulance with a look of sheer terror on her face.

"Mom!" I called. "What happened?"

"Your father," when she caught sight of me, she ran over and pulled me into a tight hug, "he collapsed a few minutes ago! I called the ambulance as soon as I could! They aren't sure what's wrong with him, though."

"Are we allowed to come with you?" I asked the nearest doctor.

"Just climb in back quickly," he told me. "We have to get him to the hospital now."

I helped my mom climb in, and then jumped in after her. The ambulance started speeding down the street, siren blaring. My father remained unconscious for the entire ride. He was so unresponsive that my mother started crying into my shoulder. I tried to comfort her as best I could.

When we reached the hospital, my father was whisked away. We were told to wait for news in a small, empty waiting room.

It was a long hour.

After the hour that seemed like an eternity, a nurse walked up to us. We looked up eagerly, my mother wiping away her tears, trying to look brave. She was having better luck at that than I was though. My hands had gone back to the shaking stage.

"Are you the Campbells?" she asked gravely. We nodded, wanting her to get on with it. She glanced at the clipboard in her hand. "Well, it isn't good. He had a heart attack. We did what we could, but it was pretty bad."

"You don't mean—?" my mother gasped.

The nurse realized what my mother assumed and immediately looked startled at her careless choice of words. "Oh, no! He will live!" she assured my mother. "He will just have to stay here for a while!"

My mother breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Can we see him?"

"I'm afraid not. We still have a lot of tests to perform. It will probably take a while. I will tell you the minute visitors are allowed."

"Thank you," my mother said sincerely. The nurse left us alone in the waiting room.

After a long silence my mother turned to me. "You should get some sleep. This is probably going to take a while, and you have had quite a stressful day." She smiled at me. Then a realization hit her. "How did you do?" she asked eagerly.

"Uh." All the preparation I had done left my mind as soon as she asked. I said the first thing I could think of. "I passed." I pulled out the watch and showed it to her.

She took the watch and examined it, smiling to herself. But it was a sad smile.

"That's great, honey." She hugged me and handed back the watch.

"Really?" I asked her. "Is it really alright with you? Even after Scott?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I want you to be able to do whatever you want to do. And if you want to be a State Alchemist, then you have my full support."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You still look worried," she observed. "What is it?"

"Father," I said simply, looking at the watch.

"He will understand."

"He will hate me."

"That isn't true."

"How do you know?" I burst out. "Ever since Scott's death, he has been completely against the military! He has called me a traitor just because I went to try to become a Dog of the Military! He probably won't ever talk to me again!"

"James," my mother said quietly, "your father loves you. He will support your decisions no matter what, just like I do."

I had no response. I felt like she was wrong, but she was my mother. I couldn't argue with her.

"Now please, James, get some sleep."

"I'll try."

Sleeping failed miserably. We both just sat in the waiting room with anticipation building. But I was more nervous than my mother. I still had to tell my father about me joining the military. I twiddled my thumbs, watching the clock as the seconds ticked by. They seemed to travel slower than normal.

Eventually, the nurse came up to us again. It had been several hours since we had arrived and we were exhausted.

"He's awake," she told us. "You can see him. He is in room 27B."

My mother and I all but jumped up, and tried to restrain ourselves from running to the room. When we walked in, we saw my father, propped up on pillows. He looked at us with a tired but calm expression. He didn't seem to be in any pain, but he was always good at hiding it.

"Are you alright? How are you feeling? Is everything okay?" My mother was immediately her bustling self. She was flitting about his bed, making sure he was all right.

"I'm fine," he assured her, lifting his hand to signal her to stop worrying. "The doctors here are good at what they do."

"Don't you have to stay though?" she asked.

"Yes. They are afraid of a follow-up attack, so I will be here a while."

"Well, how are you feeling?"

"My chest hurts, but I should be fine soon. Don't worry about it." It was right then that he caught my eye. "James," he acknowledged me.

"Hello, Father. Are you alright?" I said nervously, my hands shaking again.

"I'm fine. What about you?" His cold blue eyes studied me. It amazed me how different they were from Scott's, even they had the same shade. Scott had warm, friendly eyes, completely the opposite of my father's steely gaze.

"He has news for you," my mother informed him. His eyes narrowed when she said that.

"I, um, I p-p-passed my exam." I displayed the watch with a shaking hand. It embarrassed me that the chain jingled because my hand shook so badly.

"Really, now? Well, since the hospital doesn't allow pets in here, get out."

"What?" His scrutinizing glare stunned me.

"You heard me, Dog. Out. Now."

"Thomas," my mother disapproved.

"No. I will not have another Dog of the Military as a son."

"But you were one too!" I protested weakly, my entire body numb with the shock of his disapproval.

"I was once, now I'm not. I saw the truth and corruption there. I warned you not to join. Now you have forfeited your right to be a part of this family. Get out."

I hung my head and walked out of the room, abashed. I felt like I had seen this coming, but it still hit me hard. I couldn't believe the instant reaction he had. I couldn't do anything right. At least, not for my father. I went back to the waiting room.

A few minutes later, my mother joined me.

"James?" she asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"I told you," I said apathetically. I was still numb from shock.

"Get some sleep. It will help you feel better."

"I doubt that." But I still laid my head back. It surprised me when I realized just how tired I was. I fell asleep in no time.

**Yes, I know that this entire chapter was full of OCs, but it was important to the story. Next chapter will have the characters you know and love in it! But, I will be gone all next week because I am going camping! (I am actually going on the campout that inspired Camping Adventures. I am excited!) So, my next update will take a while. Sorry peoples! I love you still! Long A/N. I will stop now.**

**I have sunk to begging. Dang it. Please review!**


	3. First Day

**A/N: I live! Yay! Sorry the updates are taking me so long. I got back from a five-day camping trip yesterday and I am EXHAUSTED. I will update (FMA)d Libs tomorrow, so don't kill me! Well, here is chapter three. I really like this story and I hope you do too! If you do, you should tell me. And if you don't, FLAME AWAY! Just so you know, there will be no pairings or anything in this. Cuz it is a male OC, and that could be weird. Well, no pairings besides EdWin, Royai, the usual. Yeah. I'll let you read now. Please review!  
Disclaimer:  
Roses are red,  
Violets are blue.  
If I said FMA was mine,  
That would not be true.  
(I am not a poet. But I tried because it was entertaining to me. And I am loopy from sleep deprivation. Where is my sugar?)**

I was soon aware of light on the other side of my eyelids, but I kept my eyes closed. I didn't feel like waking up. Then, I felt someone nudging my shoulder I figured it was time to wake up. I opened my eyes to see my mother smiling at me.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Just after nine," she responded.

"Nine?" Something clicked in my mind. "Oh no!" I jumped up.

"What is it?" my mother asked.

"I'm late! I was supposed to be at HQ at eight! I can't believe I am late on my first day!"

I sprinted out of the hospital, leaving my mother confused and worried. But I had no time to think about that. I was already in huge trouble and I had no time to stop for anything.

I ran up the stairs and burst through the door, receiving a dirty look from the secretary, but I paid her no mind. I ran straight through the halls, dodging people as best I could. I finally reached the Colonel's office and stop, grasping the doorframe as I caught my breath. I had run across at least half of East City in ten minutes.

"Late," Mustang was sitting at his desk. I gulped. He wasn't happy. He stood up and walked over to me, grabbing my sleeve. "And what kind of uniform is this?"

It was then that I realized that I had left my standard issue uniform, still wrapped in its package, under my chair in the hospital waiting room.

"Uh, well, Sir—"

"I don't want excuses. Obviously, being a State Alchemist is too much, even for a Campbell."

"Sir, my father had a heart attack yesterday!" I burst out. I was terrified of being kicked out on my first day.

"Really, now?" Mustang raised an eyebrow. He laughed coldly. "Well, that's the best excuse I've heard in a long time."

"That's enough, Sir." The stern voice came from a blonde woman who had just walked through the door. "Leave the poor guy alone and get back to your paperwork."

The Colonel grumbled, a lot, but returned to his desk quickly when the woman began reached for a handgun that was fastened to her belt. She then turned to me. I shrank back from her severe glare.

"You said your father had a heart attack?"

I nodded, stunned to silence by her sudden concern. Who was she?

"I hope he's okay," she said sincerely. "By the way, I'm First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. You must be the new recruit. Welcome to the military." She held out her hand, so I shook it.

"Um," I found my voice, "James Campbell. I guess I'm a Major because of this." I pulled out my silver pocket watch.

"Indeed you are, Sir," she nodded. "Congratulations on passing the exam."

"Thanks," I laughed nervously. This was all so new to me. It would take some time to get used to it.

"Hey, Campbell!" I sighed in relief at hearing my friend's familiar voice.

"Hey, Havoc. Nice to see you here." I turned to see Jean grinning at me goofily, just like he always did.

"I see you met our resident sharpshooter," he nodded towards Hawkeye.

"She's nice," I pointed out.

"When you're on her good side. Just do your paperwork and you'll be fine."

As he spoke, three other people walked in with their morning coffee, chatting to themselves.

"And here comes the rest of the team!" Havoc went over and patted the red-haired man on the back. "We've got a new addition to the team, guys!"

I smiled weakly, trying to make a good impression. "I'm Major James Campbell, the Guardian Alchemist." I tried out my new title. It sounded strange.

"Second Lieutenant Breda," the redhead shook my hand.

"I'm Warrant Officer Falman," a thin man with gray hair said.

"Kain Fuery," the dark haired man with glasses introduced himself last. He was obviously the youngest of the group. "I'm a Sergeant Major. It's nice to meet you, Sir."

"That's going to be weird," I rubbed the back of my head. "I'm not used to being called sir."

"So, you know Havoc?" Falman asked me.

"Yeah. We've been friends since we were kids."

"It was always me, James and Scott, getting into trouble!" Havoc laughed at a memory.

"Scott?" Hawkeye looked over. "Scott Campbell? The lieutenant colonel from Ishval?"

"Technically he was a captain. They promoted him for his final act of service." I looked down at my feet. It always made me sad to think about Scott.

"What did he do?" Fuery asked.

Mustang paused for a moment, before answering quietly. "Scott Campbell saved my life." My brother's name brought deep respect to his voice. "Mine, and those of several other certified State Alchemists."

"During the rebellion, an Ishvalan was able to intercept a box of Amestrian weapons," I recited the story that I knew well. "The Ishvalan some how snuck into the camp that was home to at least a dozen certified alchemists along with hundreds of skilled soldiers. He began setting off grenades at different places in the camp, killing the best soldiers he could. He had no idea that there were alchemists there until he chanced upon their tent. They were caught up in the commotion, and he tried to set off a grenade that would kill them all in one shot. Scott saw him, but the pin had already been pulled. So he did what he could to stop it." My voice caught in my throat.

Mustang continued for me. "He jumped on top of the grenade. He saved at least twenty people with that action. He definitely deserved his promotion and all the gratitude from those he saved."

"Wow," Fuery said simply.

"So now I am trying to continue with his dream. It was always his wish to serve our country, and since he can't, I will," I said.

"I knew I recognized that name," Hawkeye said.

"You knew him?"

"Yes. He was in my company in Ishval. He was a good man," she gave me a comforting smile.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I thought I met everyone who was in his company at the funeral."

"Well, that explains why you don't know me. I couldn't make it that day."

I nodded, understanding.

"Well, Major, it's nice to have you onboard," Mustang said cheerfully. "Now you get to do a bit of paperwork for your first day!"

"Sir," Hawkeye reached for her gun. "That is _your_ paperwork to do."

"Can't I delegate? The guy has to know what it is like! Besides, he doesn't have anything else to do today."

"It's no use," Hawkeye sighed to herself. "So long as everything gets done."

"That's weird," Havoc muttered so Hawkeye couldn't hear him. "She must be going easy on him because she just got off of leave. Usually he has a few bullet holes by now."

I snickered. Mustang's eyes snapped up at me.

"Glad to see you are already having a good time!" He smiled brightly. It scared me. "Now get to work. I have high expectations for a Campbell."

"Wonderful." I felt a little sick as I retrieved my paperwork. This day was not going very well for me.

I took the empty desk next to Havoc and set to work on filling out the paperwork. It was just a short biography of myself. I filled in my name, age, residence, and other information. Everyone else was also working on various things. It seemed that the Colonel liked to delegate his work, but even he was working. Given, Hawkeye was glaring over his shoulder the entire time, so who wouldn't work with that pressure?

I had made it about two pages into my stack when the door burst open. I dropped my pen in shock and started.

"Fullmetal, I would appreciate it if you didn't try to break my door off its hinges every time you grace me with your presence." The Colonel sounded bored.

I turned to see a short, blond teenager standing in the office like he owned the place, glaring at the Colonel. What in Amestris was a kid doing here?

"You said someone would take me to Tucker's place so I could do my research," he said, sounding annoyed. "Well? Where is my ride?"

"Oh yeah, your little library trip. Hmm. Havoc! Campbell! Take Fullmetal here over to Shou Tucker's place. At least then he will be out of my hair for the day."

"Campbell?" He said my name in confusion.

"James Campbell," I stood and held out my hand as a courtesy. I still had no idea who he was, but it was better to be nice.

"Edward Elric," he took my hand impatiently. "I am also known as the Fullmetal Alchemist. Can we go now?"

"Wait," I did a double take. "You're a State Alchemist?" He was so young! How could he be a State Alchemist?

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly. He motioned for me to walk out the door, "Can we get going?"

"Come on, Jim," Havoc walked out the door. I followed, confused.

I heard Ed walk behind me and mutter something that sounded like, "Finally!"

When we got outside I was stunned to see a man dressed in a suit of armor waiting for us.

"Hey, Al," Edward held up his hand in greeting. "We finally got our ride."

"Good," the voice sounded much to young to belong to that huge man, but who knew? I just accepted it and moved on. "Who is this?" the armor asked, looked at me.

"James Campbell," I introduced myself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "My title is the Guardian Alchemist."

"A State Alchemist, huh?" Edward looked at me in interest. "Well, it's nice to know that there are still people becoming Dogs of the Military these days."

His comment sent a pang through my chest. It reminded me of my father who was still in the hospital. I guess he had kind of slipped my mind through the confusion of the day. But I needed to get back to the hospital. I needed to talk to him.

"Yeah," I smiled, trying to act like nothing was wrong. "But people will do anything for those they love, even if it means becoming a dog."

Edward looked at the ground. "Yeah." The one word seemed to have more meaning than I could understand.

"Well," the armor caught my attention again, "It's nice to meet you, James. My name is Alphonse Elric. I'm Ed's younger brother."

"Younger?" I looked at the armor, then at the blond boy. "There is no way."

"It's true!" Havoc came over, laughing nervously. He grabbed my elbow and turned me around, whispering, "Don't call Ed short. In fact, don't even say anything along those lines, even if it isn't referring to him."

"What? Why not?" I asked quietly.

"Trust me, just don't." He seemed to be speaking from some sort of past experience, so I dropped it.

"So, Ed and Al then? Nice, easy names," I turned back towards them.

"Yup!" Al said, smiling, I think.

"Sure," Ed rolled his eyes. "Now let's go already!"

**I like James. He is a good character. What do you think? You wanna know how you can let me know? Click the little button at the bottom of the story! Then say what you think. Or just say hi. That works too.**


	4. Orders

**A/N: This has been a long time coming. Sorry about the wait guys! So here is a kinda long chapter just for your patience! Thanks for reading and please review! Maybe I will update faster if I get more reviews.  
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. But James is still mine!**

"So, you two are brothers?" I tried to start a conversation in the quiet car.

Havoc was driving one of the cars provided for military use while I sat in the front seat, leaving the Elrics with the back seat. I turned around in my seat to try to be a bit more polite. Alphonse's armor took up most of the space, but Edward seemed fine as he stared out the window, watching the light drizzle of rain tap against the glass.

"Yes we are," Al answered.

I smiled. "I had a brother. He was five years older than me, but we were still pretty close."

"'Had?'" Ed looked at me when he heard the past tense.

"He was killed in Ishval," I said quietly. "He's the reason I joined the military."

"Because you would do anything for him." He had a sad smile on his face as he turned back to the window. It seemed like he understood exactly why I had done what I had.

There was a heavy silence in the air, so I tried for something lighter. "So, what does your mom think of you being in the military?" I said jokingly.

It was the wrong thing to ask. Ed looked down at his hands and I heard Al gasp quietly. "I wouldn't know," Ed said after a long pause. "I never had a chance to ask her."

"Where is she?" I asked, wondering if the had run away from home or something.

"The flu took her," Al said quietly after Ed didn't answer.

"Oh." The word seemed inadequate, but I didn't know what to say. It made me think of my father in the hospital. What if he ended up dying like that? "I'm sorry."

There was another long silence in the car. I looked over at Havoc, but he was staring at the road. He had probably heard all of this before. I had run out of conversation starters. But Alphonse was the one who broke the silence.

"So what kind of alchemy do you specialize in?"

"Mostly defensive alchemy," I explained. "I can make armor and I am good at producing strong barriers."

"Well that explains the title," Ed mused. "Have you tried any other kinds of alchemy?"

"I've looked into pretty much everything. I looked through alchemy dealing with specific elements and I even dabbled in biological alchemy, but I decided that I was more interested in defense as opposed to offense."

"Biological alchemy?" He looked suddenly interested. "Like chimeras?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That's why they are going to Tucker's place," Havoc spoke up. "He's the leading expert in biological alchemy. They are using his library to research it."

"What do you two want to know about biological alchemy?" I was confused. They were so young. They shouldn't be looking into strange alchemy like that, even if they _were_ geniuses.

"We're looking for something," Ed gave me a hard glare. "You may have heard of it. It's called the Philosopher's Stone."

His statement shocked me. The Philosopher's Stone? What could they possibly want with that? I had read about it and at first it interested me. I researched it extensively then. The power to avoid equivalent exchange seemed like it would be an amazing gift, but I soon realized that there would probably be a catch. You could never get something out of nothing. I knew there was something wrong with that object, but I wasn't quite sure what. It just seemed too good to be true, so I had given up my research on it. So why were they looking for it? What was so important to them?

"I have heard of it, but I don't really know anything about it," I told them. Ed looked disappointed, and I'm sure Al did too.

"We're here," Havoc announced. "We'll be back to pick you up later this afternoon."

"Thanks," Ed said dismissively, opening the door and jumping out.

Al followed him out saying, "It was nice to meet you Major Campbell."

"Likewise," I smiled and gave them a nod before Havoc pulled away.

"You seem to have made a couple of friends already," he said, smirking.

"I don't know," I said, glancing at the rain-covered window. "I'm kind of worried about them. Why are they looking into the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Edward and Alphonse are . . . different," he seemed to struggle to find the right word. "But being in the military at such a young age, I don't know how anyone could be normal. But they'll be okay. Don't worry about them. You should be worrying about what is going to happen when we get back to HQ, Mr. New State Alchemist."

I sighed heavily and watched as the rain started to pick up.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Major Campbell?" I looked up from my paperwork to see that two unfamiliar soldiers had entered the room. "Come with us."

"What for?" Mustang seemed confused. It didn't seem like a good thing.

"He is to demonstrate his alchemy, and perhaps equip some of the soldiers with his special armor."

"Oh," Mustang said. "Well, go ahead Major. I expect you to return as soon as you can though so you can finish your work before the day is through."

"Yes, sir," I stood and saluted before following the two men out.

We walked down the hall silently. I started to get a little nervous. I had been fine doing the paperwork, but practical stuff was going to be the death of me. They led me to a room where half a dozen people were waiting.

"James Campbell?" I nodded when the man asked my name. The stars on his shoulder told me he was a Major General. "We heard about your unique alchemy, and it is just what we need. You will make fifty suits of the specialized armor for the Fuhrer and the generals to wear. You will also make one hundred chest plates for the State Alchemists and other important personnel to use.

"Sir, that will take me at least three days to do, maybe more." I informed him, shocked at how much work was ahead of me.

"That is fine, so long as it gets done. We will provide the supplies for you."

"May I ask why I have been told to do this?" I asked warily, trying not to speak out of turn.

He gave me a steely glare, but answered anyway, "There has been several mysterious murders over the past few days by an Ishvalan known only as 'Scar.' We were hoping that this armor could protect the State Alchemists he seems to target as well as the higher-ups that could be potential targets. Now get to work so we can use this defense as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir," I saluted as he walked out. I turned to see the other five soldiers staring at me attentively. "Um, can I help you?"

"Sir!" a Warrant Officer snapped to attention. "We were ordered to assist you in your task. Anything you need, we were supposed to get for you."

"Um, okay," I wasn't used to being in charge. "Well, I'll need a lot of plastic for all of this. Can you get me some?"

"Yes, sir."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I had no idea where all this plastic had come from, but I didn't care. I was too busy focusing on my transmutations. It was simple work with my specially designed transmutation circle. I had created it myself, and I was rather proud of it. It allowed me to take the molecules in the plastic and compress them until they were nearly indestructible. But it still left the plastic light and thin. I inspected each piece as I finished them, checking to make sure it was still clear. Any imperfections could mean a defective piece that would have to be retransmuted.

I was almost halfway through the set of one hundred chest pieces when the door burst open. It was the Major General who had given me this task. He looked slightly worried under his strict, professional mask.

"Scar has been sighted in East City," he informed me. "You, Colonel Mustang and Major Elric are the only State certified alchemists he could be after."

"We are all accounted for?" My statement turned into a question without my consent.

"Major Elric is missing," he corrected me. "We need all available soldiers to search for him. Scar is dangerous. We must also equip whoever we can with that armor of yours."

I was scared out of my mind. Was this what the military was like? Going after insane people bent on killing you and several of your fellow soldiers? I couldn't do this. My hands immediately started shaking and I had trouble breathing. I couldn't handle a battle, even if it was only one person. I wished I were home again. Safe between the quiet walls. But, no. I couldn't do that. Scott wouldn't want me to. He would tell me to gather my courage and go for it.

"Major!" The Major General yelled. I started. "We need to go now!"

I forced my hands to stay still and picked up one of the chest plates I had just made. I tried to tell myself I could do this, but I still didn't know.

**What did ya think? Please let me know! And stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	5. The Front Lines

**A/N: Chapter Five! Wewt! Hope you like it. We get some action in this chapter! Enjoy reading and please review!  
Disclaimer: You all know I don't own this series right? Then WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP TELLING YOU? **

"We don't have a lot of time," the Major General informed me. "We will have to equip the State Alchemists and hope that will do."

I nodded. "Um, how many are there?"

"You and Mustang. Now hurry up!"

"I believe you forgot about me, Major General," A booming voice called. A huge man suddenly burst into the room. He had a blond mustache and a blond curl of hair on his head. He seemed somewhat familiar.

"Sorry Major Armstrong. I didn't realize you were in East City. Campbell! Suit him up!"

I looked at the armor in my hands and saw how tiny it was compared to the man in front of me. "Um . . ."

"Don't worry," the man patted my soldier. "I do not need any armor with these muscles."

"Uh, ok?" The name Armstrong sounded familiar. He must have been in Ishval.

"And here is Mustang," the Major General pointed out as the Colonel walked up, pulling on his gloves.

"Apparently I need some armor?" His tone changed the statement into a question.

"Yes, Sir," I said quietly.

"Speak up!" Mustang demanded. "No one will ever hear you if you talk like a mouse!"

"Y-yes, Sir!" I tried to raise the volume of my voice.

He gave a tiny nod, then turned to my work table. He picked up the armor that was sitting on it. "Is this it?"

I realized he had picked up a piece I hadn't had a chance to inspect for flaws. "Yes, but I—"

"Well, hurry and show me how to put it on."

"But, Sir—"

"Come on Campbell! We don't have all day!"

I fell silent, and showed him how to put it on over his button-up shirt quickly. Then I put my armor on over my shirt. He covered the armor with his military jacket, and I felt a twinge of guilt because I still didn't have my uniform on.

"Come on, Campbell!" Mustang's voice broke through my reverie. I hadn't realized I had been standing still for over a minute. "We need to find Fullmetal!"

We piled into several cars and drove off to find Ed and Al. It took about ten minutes before we got a call that he was in the northern part of the city. I didn't recognize the street name because I had always lived on the other side of town. We sped off to find him.

When we arrived, about five minutes later, we saw Ed sitting on the ground with no arm, and a man walking over to him, a look of disgust blatant on his face. The rain had picked up slightly since we left HQ.

"Oh no," I heard Mustang breathe. He grabbed a gun from Hawkeye who was sitting shotgun and leapt out of the car. We all jumped out with him.

He pointed the gun in the air and fired a shot. The man stopped dead in his tracks. He was obviously Ishvalan, even though his glasses covered his red eyes. He had a large X-shaped scar on his forehead.

"That's as far as you go," Mustang said.

I realized that my hands had started shaking again. This was real. This man was really trying to kill this kid. And he probably wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone here. Mustang and the Ishvalan kept talking, but I couldn't follow it. I was focusing on not passing out.

Havoc must have noticed I was not doing well, because he turned to me and said, "James. Calm down. We've got this."

I nodded, knowing that a look of pure terror must have been on my face. I tried to focus on Mustang and the Ishvalan.

"I will eliminate you too," The Ishvalan was saying.

Mustang pulled his gloves out of his pocket and put them on. I couldn't see his expression, but he sounded somewhere between furious and smug as he told us not to lay a finger on Scar.

"Colonel Mustang? The Flame Alchemist?" The Ishvalan began to take a step towards the Colonel.

"The one and only," Mustang confirmed.

"For one that turns against God to come to receive judgment . . .Today is a good day!" And he started to charge Mustang.

Mustang raised his hand, preparing to strike apparently. Hawkeye quickly turned to me.

"Guardian!" she yelled. "Stop Scar!"

"What?" I was frozen. Frozen with fear, worry and doubt. She realized I wasn't acting fast enough, so she took it into her own hands.

She ran up behind Mustang and kicked out his knees, shooting at the Ishvalan as Mustang fell. He somehow dodged all of her bullets effortlessly.

"What was that Lieutenant?" Mustang demanded.

"The rain," she explained. "You're useless if you can't make a spark. Guardian!" She turned back towards me. Can you trap him with a barrier?"

"Um, I can try," I was a bit flustered.

"No need!" The booming voice of Armstrong called. There was a loud crash as something hit the ground with a lot of force. Several rocks suddenly flew towards the Ishvalan and he neatly dodged them, even though his face betrayed his shock.

We watched as Armstrong threw everything at the Ishvalan, and as they fought, Havoc came up to me.

"James! You can help!" he said.

"What?"

"This is what you are in the army for! A normal guy like me can't do anything, but you can use your alchemy to help out the Major!"

I saw in his eyes that he truly believed I could do this, even if I thought I couldn't. "Okay." I nodded.

I pulled out a piece of paper that had a transmutation circle drawn on it. I knelt down and pressed it on the ground, activating it. I watched as blue light ran across the street and eventually to the Ishvalan. I intended to create a barrier around him and hopefully trap him. But then doubt ran through my mind again. What if this didn't work? What if I ended up being the reason that everyone was killed? The blue sparks ended up flickering onto the Ishvalan himself. It went up to his face, and then faded away. Both he and Armstrong stopped in surprise.

He turned to me, "Another alchemist? Four in one day?"

"What did you do?" Havoc asked me frantically. "What did that transmutation do?"

We heard a shot ring out from Hawkeye, who was taking advantage of the Ishvalan's pause. The bullet hit him square in the glasses and bounced off.

"What the-?" She was confused, then she turned on me. "You made his glasses bullet-proof?"

"Oh no!" I realized that when I lost my focus I must have accidentally done that.

"Give me a gun, Hawkeye." Mustang said clearly. "I may not be able to use my alchemy, but I am still a pretty good shot."

She nodded, pulling a pistol out of a shoulder holster. Armstrong and the Ishvalan had gone back to their fight. As Mustang aimed the gun, the Ishvalan caught sight of him.

"You will pay for your sins!" he suddenly yelled, whirling on Mustang. He tried to grab the Colonel's face, but the Colonel jumped back. His hand glanced off Mustang's jacket. Blue sparks flew out of his hands, covering Mustang's jacket. I realized that he could somehow do alchemy with his hand. Mustang had a small smirk on his face until there was a loud crack. I could see blood coming through his jacket as he fell to the ground in shock.

"COLONEL!" Hawkeye yelled suddenly. She pulled out two more pistols and started firing all she had at the Ishvalan. After a bullet glanced off his leg, he must have decided to run. He put his hand against the ground underneath him and we could only watch as the ground caved in under him. He was gone.

Hawkeye ran over to the Colonel and Havoc and I followed her. He was bleeding badly. We carefully pulled off his jacket to see that my armor had splintered into pieces, some of which had penetrated his skin.

"He destroyed it," Havoc said. "But I thought you said that you needed to have a special transmutation circle to do that."

"We need to get him to a hospital!" Hawkeye yelled. I noticed that tears were streaming down her face.

"Yes! Of course!" Havoc said. He pulled aside another soldier, demanding an ambulance.

"How could this have happened?" I asked myself. "That is impossible. There must have been a flaw in his armor. I can't believe this happened."

The ambulance came in under a minute and they packed Mustang away quickly, driving off to the hospital. Hawkeye went with them under the claim that she had to watch after her superior officer.

As they left, I watched in disbelief.

"Don't beat yourself up over that," Havoc patted my shoulder. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not on their first day," I pointed out.

Havoc was about to respond, but I walked away. I couldn't deal with this.

I saw Ed and Al sitting in the alley and walked over to them.

"So," I sat down next to Ed. "Automail, huh?"

"Yeah." He looked at the metal stump that was his arm.

I turned to Al. I couldn't speak because of the shock of what I saw. Part of his armor had been destroyed, but there was nothing inside of it. It was empty.

"What—?"

"It's a long story," Ed said, guessing my question. "I'd rather not get into it."

Havoc walked up to us. "So, you found out why Ed and Al are special. Come on, James. I think we need to go get a drink, then maybe go visit a few people in the hospital."

The shock still hadn't left, but I stood anyways, nodding. This had been an overwhelming day. Heaven knew I needed a drink.

**Nice long chapter. You guys deserve it. Review please! I will give you a hug!**


	6. Confrontation

**A/N: Here is chapter six! Wow. This is my third update in two days. I am getting pretty good at this! Plus, I am going to start working on another story to post on here! Yay for writing! Also, THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING MY LOVELY REVIEWERS! –hugs everyone who reviewed- You want a hug too? Then, please review! Enjoy this new chapter!  
Disclaimer: -****noms on cookie****- I am not telling you again. You already know.**

"That is quite the story," I commented once Havoc finished explaining about the Elrics. "I am not sure if I even believe all of it."

"Believe what you want, I just told you the truth," he said as we walked into the hospital room.

Mustang was sitting upright in his hospital bed, bandages completely covering his chest. He looked pale, and I could see a bit of blood on the bandages. Hawkeye was standing by the bed, looking very serious. But there was a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Sir, I—" I started. But he interrupted.

"You lost your focus Campbell. If this weren't your first day, you would probably be kicked out. But since you are new, and you didn't know what you were doing, I suppose it won't matter. Besides," he smirked, "it's not like anyone died. In fact, if it weren't for that armor, I probably would have been killed."

"But, Sir, you are in the hospital!" I pointed out. "I can't believe this had to happen on my first day! Why am I so awful at this?"

"Calm down Campbell. I'm fine. These are very shallow cuts that will heal in no time. But I am curious as to how that Ishvalan got through your armor."

"I won't know until I see it," I admitted. What had happened to it?

He turned to Hawkeye, "Lieutenant, I asked the doctors to save the pieces of the armor. Could you go ask them for those?"

She nodded and walked out. I could hear her speaking to the nurse outside.

"So, Havoc," the Colonel looked at my friend, "it's been a long time since we've been in a skirmish like this!"

Havoc scratched the back of his head, grinning. "Yeah, I guess it has. I kind of forgot how fun it is."

I stared at him in disbelief. This was supposed to be fun? He must have a twisted understanding of that word to think that ending up in the hospital after almost being killed by a madman was fun.

Mustang went on, despite my pausing to think. "I have a feeling that this is going to become a little more common with Fullmetal around."

"Yeah," Havoc mused, "Those kids tend to attract trouble."

They were laughing when Hawkeye walked in carrying several shards of plastic. "Here it is," she said.

She set down the shards and I went through them, trying my best to piece them together. I could feel the other three staring at me, waiting for me to finish.

"I see what happened," I said, setting down the final piece in place. "There was a flaw here," I pointed to the center of the spider-webbing cracks, "And he was somehow able to beak it up from there."

"How?" Mustang asked, straining to see from his bed. "You said that stuff was impenetrable."

"Well, this specific plastic is made of organic material. His arm must be designed to break down things made organically, although it is usually people from what we know about this guy. Anyways, he was able to break down the plastic because of that little flaw, but it still retained most of its shape because of how I transmuted it together. And so it just cracked instead of being completely destroyed. If it didn't have that flaw though, it wouldn't have even been affected by his alchemy."

"You gave me flawed armor?" The Colonel looked somewhere between annoyed and betrayed.

"I tried to tell you!" I said nervously. "But you wouldn't listen!"

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, "That's the Colonel for you. He never stops to think."

Havoc seemed to sense an impending fight, because he grabbed me sleeve and started heading towards the door. "Well, it was nice seeing you Lieutenant! Get well soon, Colonel! We have to leave now."

We were out the door before anyone could protest.

"Whew," Havoc sighed. "That was a close one. Hopefully they won't kill each other though. . . ."

"What was that all about?"

"When you are talking to the Colonel and the Lieutenant, you have to know when to leave. Otherwise you will either end up roasted or full of bullet holes."

"Okay?" I was still confused. We started walking down the hall when I had a realization. "Wait!"

"What is it?" Havoc looked around, startled.

"This is the same hospital my dad is in!"

"What? Your dad is in the hospital?"

"Yes." I forgot I hadn't told him. I also realized that my father had been in the back of my mind this whole time. I just hadn't realized that it was the fact the he was here that had been bugging me this entire day. Once I thought about it though, it suddenly came to the front of my mind, pushing everything else aside. "Don't worry though, he is going to be fine."

"Well, we should go visit him!"

"Yeah . . . but," I looked down.

"But what? It's your dad!"

"I don't know if he will want to talk to me."

"Why wouldn't he?" Havoc was confused.

I thought for a moment. "No, you're right. He's in 27B. Let's go."

My father's room was just down the hall. The walk didn't give me enough time to rethink my decision, which was probably for the better. When we reached the door we found my mother standing outside the room, looking exhausted.

"James?" she asked. Then she saw Havoc. "Jean?"

"Hey, Mrs. Campbell," Havoc smiled. "It's been a few years since I've seen you."

"James, what are you two doing here?" She asked after giving Havoc a tired smile.

"A friend of ours is in the hospital too," Havoc supplied after I failed in thinking of a proper response. "So James wanted to visit his dad while we were here."

"Well, he's awake. Go right ahead. I am going to get myself a cup of coffee. Do you two want any?"

"No thanks," Havoc replied for me again. She nodded and walked off, looking a little worried by my dazed expression. Havoc turned to me, "Do you want me to tag along?" I shook my head and he nodded, taking a seat in a chair next to the door.

I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I walked into the room.

My father reminded me of the Colonel for a minute when I first walked in, sitting up in his bed as he read a book. He looked up at me when I entered and gave me a scowl.

"What do you want, dog?" he sneered.

"I wanted to know if you are all right," I said quietly.

"I'm fine. Get out."

"But—"

"But nothing. As long as you are wearing that uniform, you are never going to be welcomed into my sight. Now leave."

I took a deep breath. I had to stand up for myself. Even though he scared me half to death, I had to do it. Even though I was shaking in my boots with the fear of what could happen, I just had to do it. "This is about Scott, isn't it?" I burst out. "The only reason you hate the military is because it took Scott from us!"

He looked up at me, speechless.

"Well, let me tell you something!" I couldn't stop. If I stopped, I would lose my willpower and never be able to tell him this. "Scott dreamed of being in the military his entire life! His dream was to become a hero, and he did! He saved the lives of over a dozen people, and if he hadn't we wouldn't have been able to have all the success we did!"

"I know full well what Scott did!" He thundered back at me, causing me to shrink back. "Is that what you think is going to happen to you? You think you can become a hero just by submitting yourself as a dog of the military? I can tell you right now that it doesn't work like that!"

I stared at him, feeling like I was about to vomit, my hands shaking violently. "I saved a man's life today," I said quietly. "I will accept that as an accomplishment I can be proud of." And with that, I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, knowing that my father was staring at me in shock.

"James?" Havoc said when I walked by. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Let's go back to headquarters."

**That was intense. . . . PLEASE REVIEW! –throws cookies at everyone-**


	7. A Change in Scenery

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY! I have been SOOOOOOO busy lately it isn't even funny. That's what I get for being in IB, AP and Honors classes, though. But I FINALLY updated! I hope some of you readers still love me and will still review, even though it has been four months. –cries– I don't know how well updating will go, but Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up, so it should be better. Anyhoo, enjoy this chapter, and PLEASE review. It will make me so very, very, VERY happy. And if I get enough feedback, I will try to update FMA Mad Libs as soon as I possibly can!**

**Disclaimer: A wise person once said, "If I owned this series, this story would be FACT and not FANFICTION." Although I am not that person, I agree with that statement.**

We decided not to go back to headquarters because no one would be there anyway. So instead, Jean and I sat on a bench just outside of the Colonel's room. We could hear Mustang and Hawkeye quietly discussing everything they knew about Scar, and we were pleased to see that they weren't killing each other.

Jean seemed to sense my tension as he glanced at me nervously out of the corner of his eye.

"I see you got your uniform," he pointed out, straining to be nonchalant.

I looked at my sleeve. "Yeah, I left it here this morning. Didn't you realize I left to change while we were waiting to see the Colonel?"

"Eh," he leaned against the wall, "I wasn't really paying attention. It suits you."

"Tell that to my dad," I said glumly.

"He's still having issues with this?"

"Yeah. But I kind of told him how I felt about joining the military."

Jean sat up. "You mean, you gave him a piece of your mind?"

"Well," I glanced to the side nervously, "I guess so."

"This is great!" he exclaimed so sincerely that I stared at him in disbelief.

"Great?"

"Well yeah! You having been working on getting a backbone, and you succeeded! Not very many people can stand up to their own parents!" He smacked me on the back with a proud gleam in his eye.

"I don't know. . . . It feels wrong to me," I muttered.

"You'll get over it. Just stick with me, and I'll help you get some guts."

"Wonderful," I said. He missed my sarcasm, but I dropped it.

We sat in silence for a few minutes until a soldier walked up to us.

"Excuse me, Sir," he said to Havoc, "I'm looking for a Major Campbell."

"I'm right here," I held up my hand.

The man looked startled. "Oh! I was told to give this to you." He handed me an official looking tan envelope.

"Um, thank you?" My uncertainty was apparent in my voice. The soldier saluted and left. I gave Havoc a questioning look.

"Open it!" he encouraged, looking as confused as I felt. I obliged.

"Major James Campbell, a.k.a. The Guardian Alchemist," I read aloud. "You have hereby been relocated from Eastern Command. You will report in two days time for your service at Fort Briggs near North City. You will receive the Northern military uniform at your place of residence tonight, and you will be required to wear it at all times during your service. Sincerely yours, Fuhrer Bradley."

"Briggs?" Jean looked at me like I had been sentenced to death.

"What? What is it?"

"No one gets sent to Briggs unless they are being put out of the way. For some reason, they don't want you around."

"Maybe if I didn't cause my superiors to be mortally wounded . . ." I laughed lightly, trying to act like I didn't care about this change, but in reality I was terrified.

Jean joined my laughter, but I could still see worry etched on his face.

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I had met up with my mother again before going home. I told her where I was going, and to tell my father. She gave me a hug and said she would miss me. I was going to leave for North City in the morning and try to be early to make up for my late arrival on my first day.

When I arrived at our empty house, there was a package waiting on the doorstep. _The military sure is efficient_, I thought to myself as I picked up my new military coat.

I walked inside and pulled it out, looking at the fur trimmed hood with dread. Someone wanted me out of the way? There was no doubt about that. Few people almost kill their superior on their first day. Then again, what I had told my dad was true. I had saved a man's life. Even if he was injured, at least he was alive. Wasn't that the truth? Maybe that's why I was being exiled. Someone didn't like me saving people, and somehow got the military to agree to exile me.

I laughed at myself, trying to make it seem like the military was corrupt so I wouldn't feel so bad. I knew I had screwed up. I decided to face my punishment, even if I was shaking in my boots in that frozen wasteland I was being sent to, and I knew I would be.

Resigning myself to that idea, I went to sleep, trying to be rested for the day to come.

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_I REALLY hate trains_, I thought to myself as I walked, well, limped, across North Station. After spending hours sitting on the hard, wooden benches, neither my mood nor my nerves had improved. Jean had said that those Elric brothers spent most of their time traveling on the train system, and after my trip I had no idea how thy managed that. Then again, maybe that's why Major Elric was always in a bad mood.

I managed to stagger to the main street in the small town, and I looked around nervously at the snow-covered road, not quite sure what to do. I felt the icy wind sting my face and I shivered. This place didn't seem very welcoming.

"Hey, you!" I heard a muffled voice call from behind me. "You in the military uniform!"

I realized the man was yelling at me, so I turned to face him. "Uh, yes?"

"You're looking for a way to get to Briggs, right?" The man was dressed in a thick coat with a scarf wrapped around his face, hence the muffled voice. He was seated in a wagon that was pulled by a single horse.

"I am," I replied, crossing my arms in front of my chest to keep my warmth in. My military jacket was warm, but the wind was harsh.

"Well, hop on the cart and I'll take you up!"

"Really?" My face brightened at his hospitality.

"Yeah. I live up by there, so I take people up all the time."

I thanked him and got on the cart, next to the sacks of feed that he must have come into town to get.

I watched the snowy road go by as the cart made its way towards Briggs. Soon, we were out of the town, and in a few moments, we couldn't even see it anymore. It had started barely snowing, but it was enough to obscure our vision.

I had been happy about the man's generosity, but as we got closer to the fortress, I felt my stomach begin to tighten. The cart gained elevation slowly but surely, and I had a sense of dread come upon me that increased every time the horse took a step.

Suddenly, the cart lurched to a halt. The man turned around to face me.

"Well, friend, this is as far as I go. My house is just over there," he pointed to a cozy looking cottage about a hundred yards away. "Just follow the path, and you should be there in no time."

I hopped out of the cart and looked at my path. I could barely see the fort, a looming black shape against the white back-drop of snow. The path was straight and steep, and I was concerned as to whether I would make it.

"Uh, thanks a lot," I mumbled to the man.

"Sure thing, er . . ."

"Campbell," I supplied. "James Campbell."

"Pleasure to meet you, James," he shook my hand. "I'm Carl. Just Carl please." He looked at my hand and seemed to remember something. "Oh! You don't happen to have any automail, do you?"

"No, why?"

"Automail isn't good in low temperatures. It can cause major issues."

"Okay. Well, thanks Carl!"

"Take care, James!" And the cart was gone.

I looked at the daunting slope I was supposed to climb. My hands were shaking as I began my ascent into the unknown that was Briggs.

**Well, I THINK that was a long chapter. I may be wrong, since I haven't written for a while. Oh well. PLEASE REVIEW! I will give you a giant cyber cookie (and you can choose the type!). See you next chapter!**


	8. Snow and Ice

**A/N: I'm updating! (applause) Yeah, so I figured I had left you guys hanging long enough. So here is chapter eight! I hope you guys enjoy it, and PLEASE REVIEW! I only got one review again for the last chapter, and it made me sad. :( See? Sad face. Make it happy. Review.  
****Disclaimer: James and Scott are MINE! But that's it. And if you wanna borrow them, you can. But you gotta ask. :P**

The path was worse than the train. It seemed that it was an old gravel path that had been covered in a blanket of snow, and then frozen over. Every few steps, my foot would land at an awkward angle, causing me to stumble. I slipped several times when my foot went through the snow and ice to the unstable gravel underneath.

The wind never let up, but after twenty minutes or so, the sun came out from behind the dark clouds. It was then that I realized just how _blinding_ snow could be. The whiteness seemed to burn into my eyes. I reached a hand up to wipe my watering eyes before they decided to freeze.

As I reached up, I thought I saw something shift on my left. I glanced over and, seeing nothing but a field of white, dismissed it. I continued up the path, trying to keep my gaze on the black fort instead of the white snow.

A harsh gust of wind attacked my left side, so I instinctively turned my head to the right to avoid it. Then, I _definitely_ saw something move amidst all the white. I stopped, looking at the small mound that had just moved in front of my eyes. My hands started shaking, and I felt my pulse rise with fear. I strained my ears against the wind to try to hear any signs of movement. I heard what sounded like a human voice, and suddenly the snow began to converge on me.

Terrified, I watched as a dozen piles of snow, stood up and started advancing on me. I heard more shouts, but I didn't understand them. My mind was panicking. I was shaking.

What do I do? I thought to myself, watching the horrific piles of snow drawing closer. Then I remembered that I had a certain piece of paper in my pocket. I instinctively pulled out the paper and threw it on the ground, activating the transmutation circle. Then snow around my feet exploded into the air. I couldn't see the figures of snow, but I heard some shocked cries as my snow formed a small box around me. It packed itself tightly until it formed protective walls all around me. I was shocked at my own reaction. Had I really done that? It seemed to have worked. I could hear muffled voices and random thunks as the snow piles tried to break through the walls.

Snow piles? What was I thinking? They had to be people. Probably soldiers from Briggs wearing disguises. They had to protect their fort, and not being seen until it was too late was always a good defense strategy. I should know all about defense.

It was then that I realized I had probably overreacted. I was wearing my uniform. They would have known that I was a friend. I was being foolish. I sank down in the snow heavily, my head in my hands. I had messed up again. First I prove to be useless in battle, and then I prove to be incompetent everywhere else. Could I even do _anything_ right?

I almost jumped out of my skin when a huge piece of metal burst through my protective snow barrier, causing it to collapse around me. A huge hand reached out of nowhere, picking me up easily by my collar and hoisting me into the air. I flailed my arms, praying the hand would let me go.

"Oh, no you don't," I heard a voice say on the other side of the arm that had caught me. "You aren't going to escape, filthy spy."

I tried to retort that I was not a spy when I finally focused on the man holding me in the air. He was a bear of a man, about as big as Major Armstrong, but he looked bigger with the thick military coat he wore. I couldn't pay too much attention to his clothes though. I was too frightened by the look he gave me. It was the look a predator gave its prey. It also didn't help that his other arm was made entirely out of metal, and it looked like it could eat me.

"Thought you could trick us with that uniform?" The man growled. "Well, not today. It's time for you to meet the Snow Queen, and learn first-hand what we do to spies around here."

I couldn't find my voice. I tried to say something, to tell them who I was, but I couldn't. I couldn't even resist as several of the soldiers, who had discarded their snow pile disguises to reveal uniforms like mine, tied my hands behind my back and prodded me with long rifles to make me walk forward.

Well, I thought to myself, this is not a good first impression. I tried to say something after we had walked for a while, but the cold combined with my nerves had begun to make my teeth chatter so violently, I feared I would bite off my tongue if I opened my mouth. So I kept my mouth shut, frantically trying to figure out another way to communicate.

The fort was huge. I didn't think I had quite grasped its magnitude, seeing it from the bottom of the mountain, but it really was immense. There were several people standing at the base of the fort. They were all dressed in the same uniform as me, but I could tell that I was nothing like them. These people had seen things I couldn't even imagine. And I could tell that just by looking at them. I only saw one woman in the group. She stood in the middle, and the others seemed to be standing near her, but not too close, as if they feared her. As we got closer, I could see a cold look in her icy blue eyes. Another wave of nerves hit me as I realized these eyes reminded me of my father. I shuddered and slowed, until I was poked in the back again.

"What have we here?" she called in a loud authoritative voice as a gust of wind blew through her blonde hair. "Did your team find an imposter, Captain Buccaneer?"

"A Drachman spy, by the looks of him," responded the man with the metal . . . claw.

I somehow managed to find my voice. "No! I'm not–"

My newly found voice was cut off by the cold line of steel against my throat. I hadn't even seen the woman draw her sword.

"You will speak when spoken to," she commanded calmly, if not slightly annoyed. She took her sword away from my neck and I managed to take a breath. "Buccaneer! What are your reasons for believing this man is a spy?"

"We saw him walking along the path," the bear replied. "He was wearing an Amestrian uniform, so we attempted to meet him and escort him here. He became very defensive, even after we told him of our intentions. We decided we couldn't trust him if he wouldn't trust us."

"That is a logical decision," the woman said, fixing her steely gaze on me. "However, I think it is unnecessary. It seems to me like this man is not a spy, but a coward who can only hide in the midst of danger. It's sad that they actually let people like that into the military these days."

I opened my mouth to retort, but I remembered the woman's sword which was still in her hand. Besides, what could I say in my defense? She was right. I was a coward.

"Well," she turned and started walking towards the door, "either the coward will grow a backbone, or he will die here. When it comes to survival of the fittest, it is up to the individual if they make it or not." She paused right before the door, and then turned to look at me. "What is your name, soldier?"

"M-Major James Campbell, ma'am," I managed.

"Tch," she turned back to the door. "Good luck, Campbell. You will need it here. Miles! Please show him what his first duty will be here!"

"Yes, ma'am," a man with white hair and glasses replied. And the woman was gone.

No one said anything to me as the rope that bound my hands was cut. I was fine with that though. I felt like passing out after talking to that woman. The white-haired man beckoned for me to follow him, and I did so with shaky legs. The other soldiers dispersed to attend to their duties.

I followed the man through the same door the woman had gone through, and, thankfully, she was no where to be seen.

"I'm Major Miles," the man said conversationally. "You seem different from the people who are usually sent up here. Are you new?"

"I haven't even been a state alchemist for a week," I said. It was much easier to talk to him than anyone else I had met up here.

"A state alchemist?" He seemed surprised.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, you just don't seem like a state alchemist. They usually tend to be more–"

"Capable?" I guessed, looking down.

"I was going to say 'arrogant.'"

I rolled my eyes at that, surprising myself a little as my fear and anxiety started turning into anger. I took a deep breath, wondering if being in the military was causing me to lose my temper every now and then. But I knew I couldn't take that out on anyone else, especially not the first friendly person I had met since arriving. I tried to calm down.

"So, why did you join the military?" He hadn't notice my little scene.

"Uh," it took me a moment to collect my thoughts. "My brother served in Ishval."

He glanced off to the side at the mention of Ishval. "So he convinced you of the glory of the military. He probably told you all sorts of stories when he returned, and convinced you to join when you got older."

"Not exactly." It was my turn to look away. "He was killed."

Miles looked over at me, probably surprised again, but I didn't check. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"He stopped a grenade meant for several other soldiers," I said bluntly.

"He was a hero."

"Yeah, and I've always wanted to be like him, ever since we were kids."

"So you joined the military for him?"

"It was always his dream to serve in the military. He only got to be in it for a couple months before he died."

Miles paused for a moment. "I truly am sorry."

His tone caught me off guard. "Why? You weren't responsible for his death."

"There are some who would argue with you on that point," he said, taking off his glasses to reveal red eyes.

"You're Ishvalan?" I stopped in the middle of the hallway, shocked.

"Only part-Ishvalan. My grandfather was the real thing." He put his glasses back on. "I try to keep it a secret as much as I can. People in this military don't trust Ishvalans. And it's because of what happened to people like your brother in that war. I just wanted you to know that I am deeply sorry for your loss. I hope you can forgive my people."

"I don't blame you," I assured him. "I don't even blame the man who did cause Scott's death. He was doing what he could to protect his people, just as Scott did what _he_ could to protect _his_ people. Besides, Scott wouldn't be happy if I held grudges against people." I tried to give him a smile, but my nerves seemed to be getting to me again. I felt like we were getting close to our destination, and it worried me.

Miles nodded, looking ahead of us. I looked up ahead too, and saw an opening in the hallway. "Here we are," Miles said as we walked out to a ledge overlooking the valley.

I pulled the collar of my coat up over my chin. The wind had picked up as we gained elevation.

"Here you go," Miles handed me a long pole with an ice pick attached to the top. "This is the job that all new soldiers have to do. Do you see those icicles up there?" He pointed up and I looked at the huge pieces of ice hanging precariously from the ceiling. "Knock those down without killing anyone. Simple enough, right?"

I looked at the ice nervously. "So, what if one of these fell on me?"

"We would have a big mess to clean up." His tone was indifferent.

"Has that happened before?" I asked tentatively.

"Only twice," he answered matter-of-factly. "Good luck, Campbell." He gave me a nod and walked away.

"Thanks," I said, slightly sarcastic, but mostly terrified. I realized I had completely skipped past the shaking part of my nervousness. I was completely numb.

This was going to be interesting.

**I am so mean to James. Anyhoo, let me know what you think so far! Do you have any guesses as to what will happen? What do you like? What do you not like? Wanna cookie? REVIEW!**


	9. Fainting Spells

**A/N: Hey! It's Spring Break, so I am celebrating by updating! –crowd cheers- Yes, yes I know. It's all very exciting, this whole updating thing. And I am very excited about this chapter! I have some new OCs show up, and I really like them, so it's all fun. :) Anyhoo, thanks for the reviews last chapter! I got three whole reviews! But you know what would be great? If I got, like, FOUR this time! Or maybe MORE! I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's shoot for four! And I'll give out cookies! But now you need to read.**

**Disclaimer – -insert witty way to express that Leah owns nothing except her OCs HERE-**

I reached up with the ice pick, trying to coax a particularly stubborn icicle into falling. However, I was having little luck. Finally, after about three minutes of mad hacking, the ice crashed to the ground and exploded into countless shards. I used my foot to sweep the crystal pieces off the ledge before moving on to the next icicle. Before I lifted my arms again, I heaved a heavy sigh watching the fog of my breath fan out in front of me.

After a couple of weeks, I had noticed that my arms had stopped aching. The job had gotten much easier, but when you are doing the same thing every day, it is no fun.

My weeks at Briggs had been long and uneventful. I had expected life in the military to be hard, but never boring. Maybe I had just used up my ration of excitement in the first week.

I let myself think about Scott for a minute, wondering if his military career had ever bored him. Probably not, seeing as he spent most of his time in Ishval.

I tried to get my mind off of Scott. Thinking about him was never good for me. I had almost started shaking again. I was just happy that no one had asked me about him besides Miles on my first day here.

I had made a couple of friends in Briggs, to my surprise, and Miles was one of them. He was a nice guy, and he kept Olivier from eating me alive, so I was grateful for his friendship. He had introduced me to a couple other soldiers. They all gave me a terrible time when they found out about what happened to Mustang, but they knew it had been an accident, so that didn't last long. Besides, I had learned that almost everyone here at Briggs had something they didn't want other people to know, but no one had ever told me their own story, besides Miles. These men weren't nearly as scary as the ones I had seen with the Major General on my first day. I was glad to see that there were some normal people here too. I thought I could maybe fit in.

That was until I managed to knock down an icicle right over Olivier's head.

Of course, she stepped out of the way just in time to avoid the falling glass, but that didn't stop her rage.

"Insolate fool!" she began, seething. "You impudent, blundering, sad excuse for a soldier!" It continued that way for quite a while.

Her yelling almost brought me to tears, but I somehow managed to stand through it. I glanced at the two soldiers behind her, trying to avoid the Major General shouting in my face, but they were looking away, politely disinterested.

Wonderful.

By the time she had finished her tirade, my knees were giving out and I had been assigned kitchen duty because I was "obviously not cut out for the simple task of cleaning the roof."

Finished with her outburst, she turned on her heel in a huff, and strode away, the two soldiers tailing her like puppies.

Once she was out of sight, I fainted.

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When I woke, I was lying in my bunk bed. I sat up quickly, remembering what had just happened.

"Hey look, Johnson! He's awake!" I looked over to see a familiar face. Two familiar faces, in fact. Second Lieutenants Eugene Miller and Charlie Johnson were grinning down at me. Johnson was leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded, while Miller was sitting on a chair next to my bed with a book in his lap. These were two of my good friends at Briggs. They were new to the military, just like me, and had been assigned to Briggs simply because they lived in North City and it was the most convenient for them. They didn't have a shady past, like most men here.

"It's good to see you're awake," Miller gave me a bright smile.

"We were kind of worried about you, Major. Fainting outside in this weather can be dangerous." Johnson grinned sarcastically. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. He reminded me of Jean with his "I can make fun of you because we're friends" sort of attitude. He even had that certain glint in his eye.

I sat on the edge of my bunk, rubbing my head. I must have hit it when I fell over, because it was throbbing with pain. "Great," I said out loud. Now everyone was going to give me an even worse time because I passed out after being confronted by Major General Armstrong. As if they needed another reason to prove my uselessness. I heaved another sigh. I had been doing that a lot lately.

"So, what happened to make the Queen go off on you like that?" Johnson asked, walking over and pulling up a chair next to Miller.

"I accidently knocked some ice down right over her head," I admitted with shame.

Miller's eyes widened with a mix of awe and disbelief. I recalled seeing that expression on Scott's face when he found out both Jean and he had made it into the military. I felt a short pang of sadness, remembering how excited the two of them had been.

Johnson, breaking through my reverie, started chuckling. "I'm surprised she didn't tear you to shreds!"

"Yeah, so am I," I mumbled quietly. I looked around the room full of bunks. "How did you guys get me here?" I asked. I hadn't seen anyone else around while she was yelling at me, besides the two soldiers behind her. Then again, I wasn't exactly paying attention.

"We heard her yelling," Miller said. "We were clearing ice off the ceiling around the corner and thought we should check it out. We saw her shouting at you, and after she left, you fell over. We brought you here so you wouldn't get frostbite or anything."

"That woman has quite the set of lungs," Johnson mused. "I wouldn't be surprised if people in Xing had heard that rant."

I took a deep breath. "So, now I'm the laughing-stock of the entire fort," I lamented.

"Well, we tried to avoid everyone, so I don't think anybody knows about your fainting incident," Johnson said. "But they will all probably know about the ice."

I sighed, yet again, because I couldn't think of anything else to do.

"So, what is your punishment?" Miller asked quietly after a short silence.

"I've been assigned to kitchen duty," I recalled.

"She's just pushing you out of the way then," Johnson explained. "Kitchen duty is even lower than ice-picking."

"Way to be optimistic, Charlie," Miller rolled his eyes.

"That's Second Lieutenant Johnson to you!" he replied indignantly.

I had to laugh at that. These two men reminded me so much of Jean and Scott. That and the stress of the last few hours finally made me crack. I laughed for the first time in years, but it was a laugh tinged with sadness. They were both looking at me curiously when I pulled myself together.

"What was that all about?" Johnson asked.

"You just reminded me of two people I knew when I was a kid," I said, still chuckling quietly.

"I don't think I've even seen you smile before, let alone laugh," Miller said, surprised.

I tried to sober up, realizing I probably seemed like a crazy person. "Sorry, it's been a weird day," I said, rubbing my head again. The laughing had made the pain come back, full force.

"You can say that again," Johnson sighed. "So are you off to the kitchen to fulfill your new duty?"

"Actually, I was going to call my parents," I said, shocking myself with my sudden decision. Thinking about Scott and Jean had made me wonder about my Mother and Father. Was my father doing all right? Would they want an update on how I was doing up North? How was everything back home? I realized I had to know.

"Alright," Johnson shrugged. "But remember, we only get thirty minutes to use the phone every week. So use your time wisely."

I nodded. Miller and Johnson left with a salute, leaving me to decide whether I should act on my decision, or chicken out.

I thought about today, how it felt to be yelled at, but also how it felt to know I had friends. I had never really had friends of my own before. Sure, Jean and I were good friends, but I only met him after he and Scott became friends. He first became my friend only because I was Scott's brother. It wasn't until later that we actually became true friends.

But now I had made friends of my own. They were my friends because of who I was, not my brother. I felt bad thinking about Scott like that, but it was really nice to know that I could make my _own_ friends. I felt like it gave me a certain strength to have this knowledge, and I thought he would be proud of me.

I had never had such a feeling of strength. I had always been uncertain about myself, not knowing what people thought of me or what I would be capable of doing. But since I had come to Briggs, I seemed to have found something new in myself. It was almost . . . confidence.

I stood up, not wanting this revelation of mine to dissolve before I could do what I had decided to do. I began making my way to the Communications Department.

I had a phone call to make.

**A/N: I enjoy writing this story. Almost as much as I enjoy READING YOUR REVIEWS –HINT HINT–**

**Just sayin'.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter! Hopefully it will come soon, since I'm on break and all. :D**

**P.S. James says hi. And Scott sends ghosty hugs. **


	10. A Phone Call and Some Alchemy

**A/N: Guess what? It's an update! Within a week! Woo! I love Spring Break. And this is the tenth chapter! DOUBLE DIGITS! :D  
Scott: . . . :(  
Leah: Uhh . . . Ghosty man? You okay?  
Scott: . . . No.  
Leah: What's wrong? D:  
Scott: No one returned my ghosty hugs last chapter . . . –sulk-  
Leah: Well, there **_**were**_** only two reviews.  
Scott: They hate me.  
Leah: No they don't! Right guys? Right?  
Scott: They do. –goes off to emo corner-  
Leah: Oh noez! Now Scott is all sad! Well, you guys read the chapter. I'll try to cheer him up. And I only own my OCs.**

"Name please?" The soldier who was managing the Communications Department sounded bored out of his mind. I didn't blame him. It didn't seem like an exciting job.

"Major James Campbell," I said warily. My confidence had already started to wane. I was now getting anxious for this phone call.

He glanced through a stack of papers before finding whatever he was looking for. "You still have thirty minutes this week. Go ahead and use line two."

I walked over to the phone he had pointed out. We had strict regulations on phone calls because we were so far up north that the lines could experience issues from time to time. Not only from the cold, but the sheer distance to Central, where most of our orders came from. In Briggs, it was dangerous for several people to use the phones all at one time or too often. That was why we were only given half an hour to talk to our loved ones on the phone. They preferred to have us communicate by letter.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number I knew well. I realized my hands had started to shake, but just barely. I was definitely scared now. What had happened in my absence? Did my father still hate me? What would he say to me? I heard the dial tone twice before someone answered.

"Hello?" the familiar voice said.

"Mom!" I exclaimed in relief. I had a feeling that if my father had answered, I might have just hung up. But I knew I could talk to my mother.

"Oh, James!" She sounded relieved to hear my voice. "Oh, honey, I'm so glad you called! Is everything okay? Are you warm enough up there? Are they treating you alright?"

I smiled to myself. That was my mother. Always so concerned for others. "I'm fine, Mom. And you know that these uniforms were designed to keep us warm, so stop worrying."

"I'm sorry, you're just so far away," she said. I could almost see the look of worry on her face. I wished I could give her a hug.

"Yeah," I agreed. "So, h-how—" My voice suddenly stopped working without my consent. My hands were really shaking now as I tried to force my question out.

"What is it, dear?" my mom asked, sounding even more concerned.

"How . . . how is Father?" I managed.

I was answered with silence.

"Mom?" I was starting to feel panic welling up inside of me. "Mom, what happened?"

There was another silence. Then she answered. "He's had another heart attack."

I felt my stomach drop. "What?" I breathed in disbelief.

"It was the day before they were going to let him come home, so he was in the hospital when it happened, but it still isn't good. He's in critical condition. I was only able to talk to him once since then. Either he hasn't been awake, or they've been running tests when I come to see him."

"Do they know if he's going to be okay? Did he say anything? Do we know what is going to happen to him?" Questions came pouring out of my mouth. I couldn't stop them.

"They don't know anything yet." Her voice was full of worry. And something else. Defeat? "But when I talked to him he did say something . . . about you."

"Me? What did he say about me?"

"Well, you know he's been through a rough time, and he was they had him on painkillers and other medicine when he said this . . ." She was avoiding my question.

"Mom, what did he say?" I said firmly, though I couldn't feel my hand that was holding the phone anymore.

"He . . ." she hesitated, "he said . . . that . . ."

"Tell me!" I demanded harshly, wanting to get this over with.

"He said, 'If I die, it is because that disgraceful dog we call our son betrayed me and this entire family!'" she finally burst out. I could hear her crying softly over the phone. I immediately regretted my abruptness.

"Mother . . ." I had nothing to say.

"I'm sorry, James," she whimpered.

I heard a click as she hung up.

So, I thought as I hung up the phone with my numb hand, nothing had changed. My father still hated me, even when he was on the brink of death. Not even leaving home could change how he felt about me. I couldn't think of anything I could do to win back his trust, besides quitting the military. But I couldn't do that. I was doing this for Scott.

"Done already?" A dull voice droned. I realized that my numb legs were carrying me out of the room. I turned my head nodded at the soldier, not bothering to stop. "Alright, I'll log your time."

I continued through the halls, but I felt like a ghost. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going or who passed by me. I was lost in the despair that was disappointing my father.

I didn't want to be a disappointment. In fact, that was the last thing on my list. All I had wanted to do was honor Scott's memory. I had explained this to my father, but apparently he didn't understand. He hadn't given Scott a bad time when he had joined the military. In fact, he was proud of Scott. Maybe he was only giving me a bad time because the war had taken Scott away from us. Maybe he didn't want to lose me the same way he lost Scott.

Maybe he acted like he hated me only because he loved me.

But I knew I wouldn't go the same way Scott had. I would be too scared to do what he did. I would have second-guessed myself, and then it would have been too late. I would have let those people die because I wasn't good enough.

I shivered as a cold breeze blew across the back of my neck. I pulled up the collar of my coat, realizing for the first time where I was.

I could still see the shattered ice that I had knocked down earlier today. The ice that had almost killed my commanding officer.

I stared at the ice for a second, studying the light from the lamps that reflected off of it in unusual patterns. Patterns that almost looked like a transmutation circle if one arranged them the right way.

I thought about that for a second, and I remembered that I hadn't used alchemy since I had first arrived here. Alchemy had always been a way for me to relieve stress, so I decided it might be helpful to work on some simple transmutations for a few minutes. I pulled out a small piece of paper and a pencil for my pocket. I liked to carry these things around, just in case. It was an old habit. An alchemist habit.

I sketched out a small circle on my scrap of paper, keeping it simple. I swept the ice into a pile, kneeling next to it. I set down my paper, activating the circle and watching the ice glow.

The light faded, leaving an ice flower the size of my fist on the ground and a smile on my face. Seeing the flower made the day's events fade from my mind. I began to relax as I added a few symbols to my circle and changed to flower into what looked like a frozen fire, then into a graceful ice-deer. How could I feel like a failure when I could create such works of art?

I then had an idea. I had been named the Guardian Alchemist, so I should at least live up to my name. My mind was racing as I formulated a circle in my head. How could I manipulate the ice so it could save someone's life? Could I make ice bulletproof?

I carefully drew a circle on a fresh piece of scrap paper, adding different symbols to fit my needs. I set the new circle on the ground and piled on some shattered ice. I activated to circle eagerly, wanting to see the result of my experiment.

I ended up with what seemed to be a quarter of an inch thick square of clear ice. Anxiously, I picked up the square. It felt like normal ice. I stood up and held it above my head, and then I let it go. It made a loud clunk when it hit the ground, bouncing back up a couple times before settling on the ground. I picked it up and examined it.

It was completely unharmed. Not even a tiny crack or chip.

I grinned and began putting it to the test.

I threw it against the wall as hard as I could, and I barely managed to stop it from falling off the edge when it bounced back. But that didn't do anything to it. I held one end and bashed the other against the railing, seeing if I could break it in half. Nothing. I found an ice pick, and hacked away at the square. It was perfectly fine. The ice pick on the other hand . . . Well, I had to draw another circle to fix that.

After healing the ice pick, I left to return it to its home. I came back for my square that I had left, but I was shocked to find the Major General waiting for me, with my square in her hand.

She was examining the square closely, turning it over in her hands. "You made this?" she asked. I couldn't hear any emotion in her voice. Was she upset with me? Impressed? I couldn't tell. So I just nodded wordlessly.

"Catch," she said, throwing the square at me. I instinctively followed her order, and when I looked up from the ice, I saw that she had drawn a gun on me. "Don't move."

She fired.

I closed my eyes, cringing, expecting to feel a white-hot pain from the bullet hitting some part of my body, but there was nothing. Maybe I've blacked out? I thought to myself. I tried opening my eyes, and they opened easily enough.

Then I realized that I _hadn't_ been shot. The Major General was walking over to me, holding out her hand for the block of ice. I handed it to her.

She examined it. "Good work, Campbell. There isn't even a dent on this. It's no wonder they call you the Guardian Alchemist."

"Uh," I was still shocked that she had actually shot me. And without even the slightest warning. And how had she even found out about my transmuting? Had she been watching?

"You were wise to hide your alchemic abilities. There are some here who would try to exploit you if they knew what you could do."

"I wasn't trying to hide—"

She cut me off. "Don't tell anyone else of your ability to create bulletproof materials. I don't want any spies to know that we have you protecting us. You are not meant to work in the kitchen, so I am assigning you a new duty. You are to become a member of the Outer Patrol. You will create bulletproof armor for yourself and the other soldiers who serve as Outer Patrol. Your job is to protect our perimeter from Drachman spies and other enemies. You start immediately. Go to the ground level of the fort and you will find a special meeting room for the Outer Patrol. It is room 345A. Show the soldiers in there the ice you have there. You will receive further orders after that. You are dismissed."

And with that she strode away, probably to scare some of my fellow soldiers.

I stood in a daze, staring at the doorway that she had left through. She had said everything so fast, could it be true? I decided not to wait for her to come back and shoot me again.

I made my way to the nearest elevator and pushed the button for the ground level. The anticipation for my new job began to build as the elevator slowly made its way down the mountain. Why was everything happening so fast today?

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. I gripped my square of ice as I made my way through the halls and eventually to room 345A. I could hear a quiet buzz of conversation outside of the room, so I knocked on the door. The voices went silent, and footsteps came over to the door.

The man with the arm that could probably eat me, the first person I had met up here, opened the door. I had learned that he was called Captain Buccaneer, and, quite frankly, he scared me almost as much as Major General Armstrong.

I shrank back from his scrutinizing glare.

"Major Campbell?" he questioned, glaring down at me.

"Th-the Major General sent me here," I stuttered. "I've been assigned to the Outer Patrol."

"For what reason?"

"Uh, this," I said, holding up my ice.

He gave me a look that questioned my sanity, but took the ice from my hand. "Then you should come in."

I followed him into the room, glancing around at the dozen or so other soldiers that were in the room. The room was filled with lockers. Most of them were open, revealing white winter clothes, boots, rifles, snipers and everything else one would expect a winter soldier to have. Several of the men were sitting on benches, unlacing snowshoes from their white boots, brushing snow from their uniforms or tending to minor cuts along their arms and legs. They must have just returned from their patrol shift, and it looked like it had been rough.

"So," the captain said, and I returned my attention to him, "What is so special about this ice?"

"Try to break it?" My tone turned the statement into a question.

The captain gave me a disapproving look, set the ice on the ground, and stomped on it with his foot.

His expression turned confused when he realized he hadn't done anything to the ice. He lifted his foot and bent down, this time smashing his metal claw onto the ice with impressive force. He tried several other methods, including using one of the soldier's rifles before declaring the ice unbreakable.

"That's quite a talent you have there." He seemed to be impressed.

"That's how I earned my state certification," I admitted.

"No wonder they call you Guardian. Well, what did she tell you to do?"

I didn't even have to ask who he meant by "she."

"I'm supposed to make armor for the Patrol, and accompany the troops as their guardian."

He chuckled to himself. "Just in time too. We've been having major issues with a small camp of Drachmans we found right inside our border. They are heavily armed and we can't get too close without casualties."

"I can get you close." I was surprised by my own confidence. It seemed strange to me, but not necessarily bad. Besides, I was telling the truth.

"There is one problem though." I gave him a questioning look, so he continued, "Wearing ice armor would probably lead to frostbite."

"How much plastic to you have lying around the old fort?"

**I hope you liked it! It was a long chapter . . . Yay! So you should review now. Because I like reviews and they make me want to write more. And Scott is sad and needs hugs. GIVE HIM HUGS PEOPLE. Because depressed ghosts wandering around my house are no fun. I'll update soon! Bye for now!**


	11. Outer Patrol

**A/N: Hi there! Happy chapter eleven! Oh, I need to tell you guys something. I changed my profile a lot. Check it out. There is a new poll question. Also, there is an important note about FMA Mad Libs. It has been moved to a new site, and you should all check that out too! See my profile for the site! Anyhoo, enjoy the chapter. It is long, and I like it.**

**P.S. I don't own FMA. But I do own James.**

We set out the next day, just after sunrise. The wind was frigid, and I felt like knives were stabbing into the exposed skin on my face. I reached up to pull my collar higher, trying to protect myself from the cold. The long rifle felt heavy and awkward in my hands, but the snowshoes were the worst. I was falling behind the group with every step. I had already tripped several times, but the others had simply stopped, picked me up, and kept moving without a word.

No one in this group would give me issues. They were too grateful and impressed with what I had done.

There was not enough plastic lying around the fort for me to make everyone armor, so I had spent most of the evening trying to come up with a new solution. I eventually experimented enough to create the armor out of fabric. It was difficult to do, but with my alchemy I was able to change their white camouflage uniforms into a flexible, sturdy material. Buccaneer decided to test them. We found out they were bulletproof, like the ice, but you would still get a nasty bruise if you were shot. I had the large purple mark on my arm to prove that. The soldiers liked them though, because they were easy to move around in. They were perfect for the Outer Patrol.

"There they are!" a voice ahead of me said in a hushed whisper that was almost lost in the wind. I looked ahead, but couldn't make anything out in the white. "Everyone down!" the voice demanded. We all dropped to the ground.

I could kind of make out the camp now. There were three men in white huddled together a good distance in front of us. I could see smoke rising up from the center of their huddle. I knew that wasn't a good sign. It meant they didn't care who could see their fire, because they thought they could eliminate any threats.

"Where are the others?" a soldier next to me breathed.

"I have visuals on six," another man whispered. He was scanning the area with binoculars. "I don't know where the others are."

Six? I thought. I looked around, but I could still only see the three.

"We know there are at least nine men in this camp," another voice I recognized as Buccaneer's murmured.

"Nine?" I said a little too loudly.

The soldier next to me grabbed my head and shoved my face into the snow. "Shut up!" he hissed. "Do you want them to know where we are?"

He moved his hand and I looked up. "Sorry," I breathed. "There are only five of us. How are we supposed to fight nine Drachmans?"

"This is why you made us armor," Buccaneer explained.

"I have a visual on number seven," the man with binoculars announced. "He is on our right, three o' clock."

"The right?" Buccaneer asked, looking over.

"Eight is at nine o' clock."

"Why are they spread out like this?" The captain seemed alarmed. "It's like they are flanking us."

Suddenly, the man next to me flinched and cried out in pain. He rolled over and grabbed his leg. "I've been shot!" he said, not bothering to whisper. I was thankful to see that there was no red stain on his uniform. My armor must have worked.

"They know we're here!" the man with the binoculars realized. "We need to get out of here!"

"Everyone get ready to fire!" Buccaneer commanded. "It's the only way out of here!"

We understood what he meant as Drachman soldiers came out of nowhere, completely surrounding us. There were at least fifteen of them.

I sat up and readied my gun, trying to imitate the men next to me, but my hands were shaking, and I couldn't hold it steady.

"Fire at will!" The captain shouted, aiming his own gun.

The other three soldiers obeyed without hesitation, a couple of Drachmans fell.

But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger.

I was a soldier. It was my duty to serve my country, to follow my orders no matter what.

But I had spent all of my life protecting people. How could I even think about killing someone?

The sound of gunfire filled the air. I was hunched down, shaking with fear. I heard more shouts of pain and cursing next to me as others were hit, but no one went down. The loud bangs beat against my eardrums mercilessly. I tried in vain to sit up and try to fire, but every time I did, I would become panicked and duck down again.

Suddenly, the world went silent. I looked up to see what had happened. I could no longer see any Drachmans around us. The man with the binoculars was looking around for any sign of movement, but apparently there was nothing.

Buccaneer lowered his gun. "Alright, men. Let's split up and check for survivors."

The others nodded, standing up. They all branched out in different directions, keeping their guns at the ready.

I stood and went in what I assumed was the direction I was supposed to go. I had not gone twenty feet when I came across the first color I had seen since I arrived up North. A man in a white uniform was lying motionless on the ground, covered in a dark red stain that was already beginning to freeze in the unforgiving cold.

I gasped and took a step back. My knees felt weak at the sight of death, but what could I do? These men had been trying to kill us. If he weren't dead, I would have been.

I fell to my knees, brought down by my lack of strength. My arms were limp and my rifle was resting on the ground. I couldn't look away from the dead soldier. I knew that if things had gone differently, the soldier would have been me.

I suddenly heard someone running through the snow ahead of me. I looked up to see a Drachman running straight towards me, brandishing a pistol and an enraged expression. He was holding a red spot on his side and running in a sort of lopsided kind of way.

Surprised, I tried to jump up, but I couldn't feel my legs. I remembered my gun and brought it up to defend myself without thinking.

We pulled the trigger at the same time.

I was punched in the chest just as I saw him stagger back. I grabbed at my jacket as he fell, red blossoming from the wound I had inflicted. I felt something between my hand and my chest, and looked down to find a bullet in my hand. I touched my chest again and flinched at the pain. I must have had a broken rib. I looked at the man. He wasn't moving.

"Major Campbell!" I heard my name and footsteps coming up behind me. One of the men was suddenly at my side. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I . . . I killed him," I managed.

The soldier glanced over at the man lying on the ground, still covered in fresh red paint. "There's nothing else you could have done. He would have killed you. He _tried_ to kill you, by the looks of it." He picked up the bullet I had dropped on the ground next to me. "Come on, Major. Let's get back to the group."

The man helped me up to my feet, which was not fun due to the sharp pain in my chest, and the fact that the rest of me was completely numb.

When we regrouped, I learned that one of the other men had found another survivor, but the Drachman was too injured to attack like the one I had encountered. However, the soldier next to him still had his rifle trained on the man, just in case. I shuddered at this sight, and then cringed at the pain from my broken rib.

"We'll take him back to the fort for questioning," the captain was saying. He turned and looked at me. "Campbell, we saw you were having some trouble over there, so we sent Jenkins. Are you alright?"

"Yes," I lied.

"Okay, let's get back to the fort to report."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"The good news is, it isn't broken. The bad new is, you bruised it pretty bad." The doctor was examining the black and purple area of my chest. "It should be healed up in a few days, but it is going to hurt for a while. We can bandage it up for you so you can continue with your duties."

"Thank you," I said to her. She set to work wrapping my injury with gauze.

I had noticed how dead my voice had sounded. It was strange. I didn't feel like I was completely myself ever since the incident with the Drachmans. It was like I had left part of myself behind in the snow.

"There you go," the doctor said, handing me my jacket. I nodded to her, thanking her again.

I went down to the Outer Patrol room and found it empty. I went to my new locker and opened it tentatively. I pulled out my snowshoes, trying to avoid looking at the rifle. I sat on the bench and started cleaning the excess snow off of the snowshoes. I had gone straight to the infirmary when we had returned, so I didn't get a chance to put my stuff away properly. I also had no idea what had happened to the Drachman we had captured. I wondered on that as I brushed the snow away.

Once my shoes were clean, I grabbed my white coat. I examined the spot where I had been shot. It looked like there was a tiny scorch mark, but other than that it was perfectly fine. I gave my coat a sad smile. It was the only reason I was still here.

I jumped as I heard footsteps rushing through the hall outside the door. I put my coat away and ran into the hall to see what had happened. Several soldiers were running through the halls towards the ground level entrance. I stopped one of them.

"What's going on?" I asked him.

"There's a new soldier here," he explained impatiently. "We want to see what the Ice Queen will do to scare him." I let him go and he rushed away.

Did she really try to scare the new soldiers for fun? Because that is how it seemed to me. The soldier had made it all seem like a game. Was that all it was to her?

I decided I better go and see what would happen. I didn't see any harm in going to watch.

I followed the sounds of the soldiers' footsteps until I reached a group of people, all trying to peer out into the snow.

At least I'm not the newest person here anymore, I thought to myself. It would be a nice change, not being the greenie.

I managed to push my way through the crowding men and women and see outside. I was shocked by what I saw.

Olivier was standing in the snow, wind whipping through her hair as she made a dramatic speech to . . .

The shock was apparent in my voice and on my face.

"Falman?"

**Cliffhanger. Hehe. XD **

**So go ahead and review now. Then check out the new FMA Mad Libs site. It is run by Half-HeartedShadow, because I gave her my story.**

**But yeah, please review. I only got two reviews last chapter, and I write faster when you review more. And it makes me happy. See ya next time!**


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